


Cooling Embers

by LilacCrocuta



Series: Medieval Septiplier [11]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Mild Gore, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacCrocuta/pseuds/LilacCrocuta
Summary: When King Mark gets angry, RUN.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Medieval Septiplier [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681588
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60





	Cooling Embers

Since Sir Seán had first begun training to become one of King Mark’s knights, he’d gotten the opportunity to be introduced to Mark’s very wide range of emotions.

But one of those emotions was known to be so scary, so utterly terrifying, that it would commonly strike fear into even his bravest knights.

And it was when King Mark got _angry_ that every man and woman in the castle learned to keep away from him, for their own safety as well as Mark’s.

During his fits of rage, the man would practically transform into a beast before their very eyes. He would shout and he would scream obscenities, his face would turn scarlet, the veins in his neck would start to show, and when he became thoroughly angered, he was known to throw things as big as he was across a room.

Now, Seán had seen many men get enraged, but none of them were half as terrifying as Mark was. Even Sir Tyler, who was typically a quiet and laid-back individual, wasn’t that scary when provoked.

However, Sir Seán realized one day, that there was in fact, a way to soothe the King’s fury aside from just letting him cool down on his own.

**_“GODDAMNIT—FUCKING CRIMINY!”_ **

_**SMASH!** _

The Irish knight jumped as he stood just outside of the throne room with Sir Wade, Sir Bob, Sir Ethan and Sir Tyler.

Inside of the massive room, Mark, who was currently what Seán could only describe as a _flaming tornado of rage,_ was taking his anger out on various inanimate objects. The poor object that had just impacted the wall sounded like it could have been a vase. Inwardly, he cringed as he shared an anxious glance with the other knights. They’d just been sitting down at a dinner with a very important guest—however, that “very important guest” had been revealed to be a close friend of the Paul brothers, and when caught and interrogated by Mark and his fellow knights, had the sheer audacity to call the Irishman a “Meager sheep who wouldn’t know his arse from his thumb.”

Now, that insult had mildly offended Seán, but _Mark….._

_**SMASH! CLATTER!** _

“There goes our precious China.” Sir Bob muttered from the Irish Knight’s left, as the other men gave solemn nods of their heads and continued to listen to the ruckus nearby.

At this point, Mark was screaming utter nonsense that sounded like a bunch of swears mixed together, and Seán swallowed nervously. None of them had ever seen nor heard him this furious before.

_“S-should we stop him before he destroys the entire room?”_ Sir Ethan suggested timidly, from behind Sir Tyler’s protective bulk.

The brunet saw the taller knight shake his head. “It would be best to let him release the rest of his anger on his own.” Tyler pointed out.

_**THUD!** _

_**“AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHHHHHHH!”** _Upon hearing the scream, the others fearfully dared to peek into the room through the barely opened doors, and Seán heard an audible wince from Sir Wade.

“Ooooh, it appears that he’s stubbed his toe.”

“He’s what?!” Alarmed, the Irishman tried to get a look at the situation with them, but due to his average height compared to three of his friends, he could not.

“He took his boots off?” Sir Bob piped up. “When did he—?”

_“HEADS UP—!”_ Tyler’s warning came a moment too late for Sir Wade, and abruptly, the bald knight was knocked flat onto his rear by something harshly impacting his head—that something turned out to be one of the King’s boots.

As his friend was helped up by the others and pulled away from the doors, Sir Seán gulped. He doubted that King Mark had thrown the object at them intentionally, but even so, this had to be stopped.

Judging from the sounds inside the throne room, Mark was just beginning to simmer down, but perhaps he could assist with that…

The brunet was making a move towards the doors before the others could guess what he was planning.

“Seán? Seán? Sir Seán, what are you doing?”

“Sir Seán!”

“ _SEÁN, NO!”_

_“SEÁN!”_

“Just stay here, men!” The Irish knight pleaded, not daring to look back at his mortified friends, before gingerly opening the wooden doors.

Inside the throne room, King Mark was hunched over, evidently still infuriated, if the livid-sounding swears he was muttering under his breath were any indication. As he dared to take a step closer, Seán could see that the man was staring at his own big toe, which was bleeding a little bit, and he grimaced pitifully. He’d had his fair share of injuries that he’d gotten from his own temper tantrums.

Swallowing once, the brunet dared to speak.

_“M-Mark…?”_ The king tensed, and then looked over his shoulder, meeting Seán’s eyes as his own still blazed with fire. But for some reason, the Irish knight felt not a trace of fear from that stare.He took a step closer.

_“Mark, love, are ye alright?”_

The man in front of him let out a heavy exhale, and to Seán’s immense relief, began to relax ever so slightly the closer he got.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” He muttered wearily, gesturing around the room with a vague hand motion. “T-there’s...broken porcelain, and….other things I destroyed.”

Seán could only smile in amusement at the weak point, and calmly made his way over to Mark’s side.

“Well unlike you,” he reminded the king, nodding to their feet. “I’m not barefoot.”

Mark blushed in obvious embarrassment, averting his eyes, and that’s when the brunet knew he’d done it. Chuckling softly, he offered his arm to his lover, and Mark hesitantly took it, straightening up a little.

“Come on,” the brunet urged him softly. “Let’s head down to Lady Evelyn’s so she can look at that toe.”

“Alright.” Mark muttered, tiredly resting his head against Seán’s shoulder while they carefully walked out of the half-destroyed room. As they strolled by Wade, Bob, Tyler and Ethan, the Irish knight briefly saw the stunned looks on their friends’ faces, and did his best not to laugh while they continued their journey to the resident nurse’s room. Midway to Lady Evelyn’s, he heard Mark scoff quietly against him.

“What would I do without you?” The king sighed, exchanging a smile with the brunet.

Seán chuckled, planting a tender kiss against Mark’s hair. “I truly don’t know, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Few things are more terrifying than seeing Mark get pissed off, imo.   
> Stay indoors, stay safe, don't touch your face, and peace out!


End file.
